


Beautiful

by orphan_account



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: M/M, Mild Angst, Mild Fluff, devil!valerius, enjoy, horn pulling, horn riding???????, intense smut, love these dorks, lucio is a monsterfucker, that's a thing right????, the "L" word, valucio
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-12 17:42:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22697860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Valerius made a deal with the Devil, and got turned into one as the price. He's locked himself in his room for days, seeing next to no one, afraid of himself and how hideous he is (in his own eyes).Lucio doesn't think so.......and horned shenanigans ensue ;)
Relationships: Lucio/Valerius (The Arcana)
Kudos: 24





	Beautiful

**Author's Note:**

> Lucio's Devil form (andaveryhornydiscordconversation) got me thinking about what Val would look like as the Devil. And then, consequently, about Lucio and Val fucking with Val as the Devil.  
Anyways.  
Enjoy!

Black, clawed hands rest, palms up, on knees covered loosely by burgundy muslin. The rest of the fabric belongs to a nightdress, usually _very_ loose on the wearer but now fitting just loose enough to be airy and comfortable but not as much as it once was. There are a few rips in the back, near the collar, undoubtedly a result of two long, dark, shiny spiraled horns tearing it as it was put on.

The consul sat hunched over on his bed, alone, staring down at his hands with an impassive expression, though his mind was far from the calm his body portrayed.

_I’m a monster._

_I’m a monster._

_I’m hideous._

_I’m a demon, a monster._

He didn’t dare show his face to anyone save a select few — the palace gardener, for one, and that plague doctor and his magician, as well as the count. How could he? Children would undoubtedly run away from the sight of him, screaming for their mothers in terror; he’d be cast out, removed from his position and the life he’d known.

He shook his head again for the thousandth time at his own stupidity. He’d accepted this deal with an apparently very much mistaken idea of the price, and he was suffering for it now.

_Of course he’d do this, how **stupid**, why did I ever consider a deal with the Devil a good idea?! IDIOT!_

He heaved a sigh and stood up, walking over to his vanity table and pouring himself a large glass of Cabernet sauvignon. Robotically, he raised it to his lips, staring at himself in the mirror with a loathing gaze. The alcohol felt warm in his throat as he invited the dark clouds of the liquor to fog his brain and take him away from this harsh reality.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when there was a knock on the door, presumably from a servant — merely the most recent of many.

“No, _go away_,” he growled, wanting nothing more than to return to the suffocating embrace of the wine, “I’m not taking visitors. Tell the count his attempts to make me leave this room are futile, and _don’t come back._”

“HA, you just did, yourself. Awww, Val, really? No visitors? Not even me?”

Valerius’ gaze lifted up to the ceiling in a brief eye roll and a long, drawn-out sigh, but he reluctantly set down the glass and walked over to the door, opening it just enough for the visitor to slip inside, promptly closing and locking it again after him.

Lucio offered him a small smirk at being let in. “Aw, you love me.”

The count’s eyebrow raise was met with the fall of Valerius’ as he narrowed his eyes. “If you’ve come simply to repeat pointless things, then leave, leave me in my disgrace and allow me to wallow in my self-pity in peace.”

Lucio did a bad job of covering laughter with a gasp of mock offense, pressing a hand to his chest. “Pointless?” He imitated the consul’s superior tone. “Val, you _wound_ me!” His intent wasn’t so much genuinely mocking as attempting to elicit a smile from the other.

He didn’t have much success.

“Lucio, _really_, what are you here for?! To mock me?! To laugh at my ruin and misfortune?!”

Lucio’s face fell a little and he stepped closer, reaching out to cup the consul’s face. “Aw, no, I’m not. I wanted to see you, is that so bad?”

Valerius snorted and pulled his head out of reach, walking over to the bed and sitting down on the edge of it again, hunched over. “And now you have. I’m surprised you aren’t running for the hills.”

This time, Lucio’s gasp was genuinely offended. “Excuse me,” he started, as he sat next to the consul, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I did not grow up as a hunter and spend my youth as a mercenary for you to believe I’d run at the sight of you with horns and a little black eyeliner on your face.”

“This is not eyeliner.”

“I know, cupcake, I was just kidding.”

“Not funny.”

Lucio still laughed softly.

A long silence followed, in which neither of them moved, both lost in their own thoughts.

_It would be easier if you left. You do not have to pretend I’m not terrifying, not hideous, Lucio. Leave. It’s for the best. You shouldn’t be here anyway, it’s late, everyone is asleep except us, you should be sleeping. You need your sleep. I do not._

Despite all his thoughts like this, the consul made no move to leave Lucio’s touch or his side.

_I don’t want your pity. I don’t want you here just to make me feel better, if that’s what you think you’re doing. You are doing the opposite. I know you are only here for me, to keep _me_ company, not because you want to. You_—

“Val,” Lucio suddenly said, interrupting his train of thought, “maybe........maybe your new form isn’t all that bad?” His voice raised at the end, as if expecting a loud retort or exclamation of protest.

Well, he was right that time.

_“What do you mean, ‘not all that bad’?! I am a DEMON, a **DEVIL**, Lucio!”_

“I know! I know,” he calmly replied, shifting to better face Valerius. “I just don’t think you’ve thought about the upsides yet.”

Valerius narrowed his eyes. He wanted to say _‘what upsides?’ _but held his temper, settling instead for, “....what do you mean?”

A hand crept onto the consul’s thigh, and the count leaned closer, his alchemical arm hooking around the other’s waist. “You haven’t considered how much fun your horns could be.”

_......oh._

_Oh._

_Oh, you horny bastard_—

Valerius huffed, amused at the notion, stiffening only a little bit. However, he didn’t pull away. “Fun? You are going to have to be more specific.” He said it because he didn’t quite understand _exactly_ what Lucio meant, and unfortunately realized what it sounded like he was doing only once the words left his lips.

Lucio smirked, though had mercy and didn’t embarrass him and outright beg then and there. “They look like excellent handles, don’t you think?”

A couple hundred scenarios flooded Valerius’ head and he turned away abruptly, flushing pink, covering his mouth with his hand in slight embarrassment. Though....he had to admit......some of those scenarios weren’t all that revolting. “You would hold me by my...my..._h-horns_...and fuck me? Like that?”

“Mmhmmm,” the count replied with pursed lips, a sinful gleam in his eye.

Valerius paused, thinking. Unasked for (though not entirely unwelcome), he could very easily imagine what it might feel like to have Lucio’s hands wrapped around one of the bends in their spirals, pulling on them and showing him where to go. _He could be rougher, it would hurt less than my hair._

“Besides,” Lucio continued, his voice suave as ever, “you look incredibly _horny_ ~ ”

Another long pause, filled with exasperation, disbelief, annoyance, and just a little amusement.

“................................................begone, _thot_.”

Lucio laughed, throwing his head back, completely ignoring the name-calling. “_There’s_ my Val! I was waiting for some insulting but cute comment.” He returned back to his previous position with his face close to Valerius’, breath hot against the skin on the new demon’s neck. “Soooo, whadduya say, Val?” He shifted closer, his arm coiling tighter around the consul’s waist, lips approaching his neck. Valerius couldn’t turn his head to look at him anymore because of how close he was; he could only see him out of the corner of his eye. He shivered. “Cupcake, sweetheart, snack cake, darlin’,” the count continued, his voice dropping a little with each nickname and turning somewhat softer yet huskier each time. “Will you let me show you what I mean? That you, as you are, are wonderful?”

Valerius hesitated, his gaze dropping to the floor.

However....the offer did sound nice.

“....fine.”

And just like that, Lucio’s lips were there, warm and soft yet pressed hard against his neck, the hand on his thigh sliding down to the hem of his nightdress. Valerius melted into him with a contented huff, closing his eyes. The count pushed him farther up the bed and onto his back, until the consul was lying beneath him, gazing up at him with piercing eyes, propped up on his elbows. Lucio renewed his previous attentions, his lips continuing hungrily up Valerius’ neck.

Valerius hadn’t realized how much he’d longed for this until it was happening. He’d been so caught up in his ruin, in his problems (as well as everyone else’s) to bother thinking about himself and what he wanted, what he needed. Quiet whimpers and occasional gasps escaped his lips, though he was promptly silenced after a particularly sharp one (Lucio had used his teeth) by a demanding kiss, which he happily reciprocated. He lifted one arm to wrap around the count’s shoulders, sighing into the kiss, parting his lips to let their tongues collide.

Lucio was relentless. He kissed Valerius ravenously, pressing their lips together hard enough to threaten pushing the consul fully onto his back by his mouth alone. He could feel his lover shudder when the cool gold of his clawed fingers brushed his bare skin on the inside of his knee, and smirked, repeating the motion. He did it again, slower, coaxing Valerius into parting his legs and letting the count comfortably settle in between. In any other occasion, Lucio might’ve chuckled at how easy Valerius was being, but this time he refrained. His hands snaked down the consul’s sides, outlining his figure as he went, until — without warning — they deftly slipped under the nightdress. Valerius’ breath hitched and his eyes shot open, catching Lucio off-guard with the intensity. They’d darkened from their previous glowing amber into solid gold in candlelight, glittering, alluring, and dangerous in contrast with their black sclerae and surrounding demonic patterns.

_Well shit._

The count’s confidence faltered, but he didn’t back down; he held still, thumbs rubbing small circles into Valerius’ thighs, waiting for permission.

Valerius hesitated, and bit his lip. “The markings,” he huffed in a barely-audible voice, “they’re not just on my face.”

Lucio smiled, his expression halfway between reassuring/sympathetic and smirking. “Got it,” he replied, unfazed. “Anything else?”

Valerius blinked. He’d expected Lucio’s face to fall, or for him to maybe even leave entirely. “You’re not......bothered? You genuinely aren’t bothered by me as I am, now?”

Lucio frowned and shook his head. “Nope.” His voice turned low and husky again. “Now, may I...?”

The consul paused another moment, but then nodded.

Lucio didn’t need a second command; his hands slid sensually up the sides of Valerius’ thighs and to his hips, hitching up the skirt of the nightdress as they went. They slid higher....and higher....up his lover’s torso and over his chest, then up his arms as he sat upright and lifted them to allow the garment to be completely removed, up over his head and horns and then discarded onto the floor.

Whatever the Devil may be, he must have had _some_ mercy in his cold heart, for he’d taken away none of the consul’s natural beauty — the opposite, in fact. He’d elevated it.

Valerius had always had muscle and — Lucio could swear — the most flawless skin in Vesuvia. He attributed it to the wine, though the count and many others speculated he must have some extensive skincare routine, because no one simply got drunk and then acquired skin as soft, smooth, and yet firm as _that_.

However, though his body was always pleasing on the eye — smooth, well-proportioned and well-framed by his hair — tonight it was absolutely _lustrous_.

The Devil had dusted his skin with an almost metallic sheen, and every dip and curve was contoured with darker tones to give the impression of more muscle, more _power_; he was now a meticulously balanced masterpiece of heightened features and optical illusions......but most dramatic were the two black streaks that ran down the front of his torso, curving inwards at his chest and waist and dipping around his groin to the insides of his thighs, running all the way down his legs to meet the black-stained tones of his feet and shins. They started from two black diamonds draped over his shoulders, hollow on the inside except for a smaller diamond nestled there in each, near identical to the patterns on the Devil’s own clothing, as if the Arcana was signing his artwork, the canvas of his masterpiece in this way. Mirrored streaks ran down his back in this same way, though they joined together just above his ass and ran down the cleft of it to join the rest on the insides of his legs. Above his hips, each streak branched out to form more going down the sides of his legs in varying lengths, though all faded away by the time they reached his knees.

Lucio must have been staring, because suddenly Valerius was chuckling.

_He genuinely thinks I’m still attractive, even like this._

The laughing did not help stop the staring — in fact, the opposite, because now the dim candlelight was dancing across his skin with each movement in fluid ripples of pale gold and obsidian.

“Very attractive, Lucio, drooling already, when nothing’s even been in your mouth yet.”

It was Lucio’s turn to bark a laugh and he pushed Valerius back onto his elbows again, leaning over him with a smirk as his claws trailed possessively up and across the consul’s chest, eliciting small shivers and twitches of the muscles they grazed over. “I’m sorry, it’s just hard to take my eyes off you like this.” He undid the sash on his own robe and shucked off the garment, balling it up and tossing it away.

“......oh ~ ?”

“Ah-ah, now you’re just fishing for compliments.”

Valerius huffed a laugh. Lucio tried to push him further onto his back, but he resisted. “My horns. I cannot comfortably lie on my back.”

Rather than seem discouraged, an idea flashed across Lucio’s vision and he smirked dangerously, making the consul shiver. “In that case....it seems I have no choice but to take you from behind.” Before Valerius could react, Lucio expertly flipped him over and pinned him on his stomach with an arm across the small of his back and gold claws around the back of his neck, not squeezing but just pushing down.

Valerius yelped and suppressed a smile, struggling half-heartedly.

Lucio smirked and pushed Valerius’ legs forward and under him, parting his knees and thus raising his ass in the air. He held the consul there, but took a moment to enjoy the view — face flushed and pressed into the sheets, hair in a state of disarray and strewn over his back and the bed near his head, ass up, horns seemingly begging to be held and used for this. _He’s_—

“Well?” Valerius interrupted his thoughts. “If I knew you would be dumbstruck every time you saw me vulnerable tonight, I would have blindfolded you and railed you as I pleased hours ago.”

“Can I not look at you and think you’re beautiful for two seconds without you yapping at me?”

“Oh, please, you’ve been staring for more than two seconds,” he retorted, though his words were partially muffled by his face being pressed into the mattress. “You were absolutely dumbfounded, starstruck, da-_AAAEEEEeeeeh_........_hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh............._”

In the time he’d been speaking, Lucio was sucking his own fingers, and inserted one into his entrance. He moaned, hips bearing back on the count’s hand once he adjusted. Lucio slowly pumped his hand in and out, before he inserted another finger, and another, earning a tiny squeal and a moan each time, scissoring him and curling against his prostate.

Valerius was gripping the sheets tightly, so much his knuckles were white, and biting his lip to keep from making too many noises too soon; he didn’t want to seem outright needy — at least, not yet.

He yelped when suddenly, he was roughly pulled up by the horns to hold himself up, now on his hands and knees. Lucio hadn’t exaggerated one bit when he said he’d use Valerius’ horns as handles — that was exactly what he was doing. His gold hand held one of the outer loops of the spirals, while the other hand (which had been inside the consul, just now removed, with a whimper) held his own cock, aligning himself, just barely pushing in.

Valerius’ breath hitched again and he tried to turn his head to look back at Lucio, but was prevented the hands on his horns, keeping him facing forwards, to the opposite wall......right where his vanity table stood, with the very large mirror above it, centered on them. Lucio smirked at him in the mirror as he adjusted his grip on the consul’s horns.

_Oh._

Valerius saw the movement of Lucio’s hips, the slight sway backward before he felt it, and he closed his eyes and moaned lowly as Lucio pushed into him in one, long thrust.

“No, open them...!”

The consul huffed and obeyed, staring at himself in the mirror, flush against Lucio’s body where their hips met and as intimate as they could possibly be. His face reddened, and the count’s smirk widened.

Wordlessly, the latter started moving.

It wasn’t the hard, rough fucking Valerius had been expecting, but rather slow, yet powerful and slightly exaggerated. He could feel and see himself lurch forwards a little with every thrust, held firmly in place by Lucio’s unyielding grip.

Lucio never seemed better. His forehead was slick with sweat and he tossed his head back to fling a sticky lock of hair back and out of his face and eyes, grinning, and panting. It was so ironic how this man was subduing a demon, one clearly at this point as strong as he (and far more intimidating). However, there was no doubt that none could do it better; Valerius was biting his lip (still hanging on to his pride) yet groaning almost constantly, in a state he would rather die than let anyone else in the world see him in.

In one deft, fluid motion, Lucio pulled Valerius up to press completely against him so both men were standing on their knees, one hand holding a horn and the other snaking around to grasp his cock and start slowly stroking it in time with his thrusts. He buried his head in the crook of Valerius’ neck, nipping his skin and kissing him. It truly was a slightly dangerous position — one turn of his head on Valerius’ part, and Lucio might be knocked out from a horn hitting him — though, to be fair, they never were a pair that exactly played it safe.

Valerius’ moans multiplied and rose in pitch, one of his hands reaching up behind him to rest in Lucio’s hair and hold his head against his neck, while the other rested over the arm stroking his cock. The count expertly played his body like a fine-tuned instrument, drawing out a symphony of noises from the most beautiful sighs to obscene groans as he saw fit — _Valerius was simply too easy. _Lucio rolled his hips upwards with expert precision, hitting his prostate _every. Single. Time, _working him up to the edge. Valerius keened when Lucio thrusted particularly hard and circled the tip of his cock, finally coming into his hand.

Lucio had been watching him the entire time in the mirror, even when halfway-through Valerius’ eyes closed again in pleasure. _He’s beautiful like this. He always is. Even as a devil._

_Maybe not ‘even,’ but rather ‘especially.’_

The count hadn’t come yet, but rode out Valerius’ orgasm, still steadily thrusting into him. Seeing his lover so strung up in pleasure from being taken like this, he wanted something in his ass, too.

His gaze settled on Valerius’ horns, and an idea began to form.

“Val?”

Valerius was panting, practically fallen back against Lucio and leaning completely on him. “Hmm?”

“Mind if I ride your horns?”

_That_ caught Valerius off-guard. He choked, going red-faced from the air deprivation as a result of both the panting and the coughing. “Y-You......want to......r—_khhh_, r-r....._what?!_”

Lucio huffed, but didn’t back down. “You heard me, sweetheart.”

“But...._why?!_ I can’t imagine....”

“You won’t have to imagine, you’ll be watching in the mirror,” Lucio laughed, and released his hold on Valerius completely to let him move away. The consul did, and turned his head to face him, watching — amused — as Lucio licked his fingers to clean them from his cum. “I just wanna try it,” the count whined around his fingers and between licks. “If you feel weird just stop me at any time. But I wanna try! Please?”

Valerius sighed, but pursed his lips after a moment, shaking his head in defeat. “You’re cleaning them when you’re done.”

“Deal. Now lie down on your stomach.”

Valerius slowly did, grabbing a pillow and resting it under his chin. He wasn’t exactly facing the mirror, but that was ok — he didn’t need to see. He made a small noise of surprise when his horns were grabbed and pushed down to lie parallel to his torso and then again when Lucio lay down on top of him, grabbing one of his horns and sticking the tip of it in his mouth. Valerius couldn’t feel a thing, but he could see Lucio’s expression; if he wasn’t so turned on, he would’ve rolled his eyes and snorted.

Lucio made quick work of getting the appendage wet enough, and turned around so he was straddling the consul’s back, though facing the opposite direction of him so he could align his entrance with the horn once he was ready. Unlike when he prepared his lover, he was efficient this time, impatient to try this out. Who knows? It might be fun.

Valerius was unaware of what Lucio was doing at that very moment until he heard a moan and felt something gently pushing on his horn, forwards. He glanced in the mirror, curious.

Lucio was seated on his back with the horn in his ass as far as he could comfortably fit it, his back arched, hands firmly gripping the Consul’s hips in front of him. The horn felt......strange, though not bad. The surface of the hard bone did not have the same give as that of flesh, but the twisting shape of It was _exquisite_ when he started moving once more. He moaned lowly, rocking his hips back onto it then forwards, taking his cock in one hand and stroking it in time. It was _so strange,_ for both of them, though they both liked it in their own ways: Lucio because it felt good and was unlike anything he’d tried before, and Valerius because he got to simply lie there, catching his breath, enjoying the scene unfolding on top of him. Lucio was _incredibly _hot, all dramatic features, sharp edges, and a perfect body worthy of a marble statue made of him and worshipped alongside those of the ancients. And — _unlike myself,_ he thought, with a slight twinge of jealousy — Lucio was _real._ Valerius watched him with a smirk, and the next time Lucio rocked back, he moved his own head back a little, earning a sharp whine from the count above him.

_Ohoho,_ Lucio thought once he recovered from the initial surprise, _so THAT’s how you want to play._

His hands slid up from their previous places — one on Valerius’ hip, the other from his own cock — to the cheeks of his ass and started kneading them, groping him, earning in return a squeal from the consul below him.

Lucio smirked and kept going, a little slower and more sensually, almost as if he were giving him a massage, albeit a very sexual one. He could only keep going for so long though, because soon, he felt his climax approaching and removed one hand to stroke his cock again, moaning. To make up for the loss of the hand, his other one — the gauntlet — traced constellations on his skin instead, down the black lines and predictably ending up at his entrance, and pushed in.

Valerius gasped at the intrusion once more, instinctively arching his back down into the bed so his ass was higher, pushing up into the finger. This same motion caused his horn to enter Lucio deeper, hitting his prostate _exactly right_, making the count come with a sharp cry of ecstasy.

Lucio removed his finger once he came down from his high, panting, with the most infuriating, smug grin on his face. _Ha,_ he seemed to say, _see? That was fun. And you liked it, too, if just for the favor I did you._

Valerius took a deep, shaky breath and pushed himself up, thus ‘accidentally’ causing Lucio to fall off of him......before he whirled around and grabbed the count by the shoulders and dragged him up towards the center of the bed, pinning him there with both hands on his shoulders and straddling his lap.

His hair was completely a mess, falling forward over his shoulders as a result of how he was hunched over, and he was panting, sweaty (the water only making him shinier than he already was), and staring down at Lucio through half-lidded, alluring eyes. “Now it’s your turn to be on the bottom,” he murmured, his voice just barely above a whisper, rumbling a little in his throat.

“So?” Lucio shivered, but smiled. “I can still dominate you while lying under you.”

“I know, but tonight, you will not.”

“I will.”

“You won’t.”

“_Vallllll_, you _know_ I wi—"

He was silenced by a finger across his lips. “Shhhhhhh. You talk too much.”

The finger retreated, though Lucio chased its touch once it left. He obeyed, shivering, and rested his flesh hand behind his head while his gold one reached up to gingerly stroke the side of Valerius’ face and then run through his hair. It went slowly, down his hair and then back up to his face, down again (but on his skin this time), down, down his jawline, his neck, collarbone, between his pectorals and abdominals and all the way to his belly button. Everywhere his claw touched, the consul shivered; Lucio had, effectively, _literally_ sent a wave of shivers down Valerius’ body. From previous midnight escapades, he’d learned just how sensitive Valerius really was, and he never grew tired of watching him react so readily, so _helplessly_ to his attentions.

Valerius allowed him to do this, but when he reached up again he grabbed the gauntlet and held it away from himself, tutting. “No touching, _my lord_.” He lifted himself to stand on his knees, and with much ceremony grabbed Lucio’s cock and lowered himself down onto it.

It was Lucio’s turn to shiver, and shiver he did, at the name, the view, and the sensation all at once. His gold hand moved to join his other behind his head, and he shifted to get comfortable with an innocent face on (though he knew perfectly well what he was doing to Valerius as he did, to which he received a chastising glare). “No touching,” he repeated, to show he got the message, and waited.

Valerius was slow to begin, rolling his hips so subtly it was almost impossible to see any movement at all yet......but gradually, his motions got faster, more deliberate, his claws unintentionally digging into Lucio’s sides just above his hips as he moaned. His head lolled back, exposing his neck when he fully began riding him, so Lucio could see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. The count was softly moaning, too, though mostly in quiet huffs or deep groans, in contrast to the musical sighs and gasps of his lover.

He couldn’t help it. He slowly sat up with a desperate expression, but didn’t reach out just yet to touch, unsure if he could.

To his surprise, Valerius did nothing to stop it; they made eye contact, but the consul kept moving, holding his gaze captive as he rocked his hips.

Lucio tentatively lifted an arm, reaching forwards. _Maybe he’s changed his mind?_

Valerius simply kept going, his gaze flickering to the arm but then going back to Lucio’s eyes, neither giving permission nor denying it.

Lucio was in a dangerous mood. His hands both firmly planted themselves on Valerius’ hips, pushing him down harder and thus eliciting a sharp intake of breath and a moan from each of them. They then snaked up his sides and to his arms, lifting them and draping them over his own shoulders.

Valerius subtly arched his back closer to Lucio, his expression sultry, head tilted slightly down and lips parted in short breaths.

Then, for seemingly no reason at all, Lucio smirked.

_What?_

Suddenly, without warning, the count’s arms snapped up to Valerius’ horns and gripped them, yanking them down and thus bending his body forwards, strung like a bow, arching the consul’s torso into his own and his neck into his awaiting mouth.

He kissed his skin just as ravenously as he had before: sucking bruises, licking, nipping, and sometimes outright biting as he smiled with each gasp, squeak, or hitch of breath he earned. One hand remained on a horn, while the other arm left to coil around Valerius’ waist, keeping him arched like this and pinning him against himself. He pushed his own hips upwards, groaning, but never eased up his assault on the consul’s neck.

Valerius’ eyes had long since shut in his euphoria; he stopped resisting, he gave up control, he melted once again into Lucio’s touch and felt nothing less than adored — worshipped, even. His moans were breathy, hitching every time the count pulled harder on his horns and moved his head, kissing somewhere new each time. Lucio’s golden arm had been the one to wrap around his waist, and it loosened its grip to hold Valerius in place with much more effective methods: he grazed a single claw up and down his spine, sending the consul shying away from it and shuddering, falling apart, though the metal simply followed and continued to stroke him like this no matter what he did.

_“L-Lucio...”_

He’d wanted nothing, but he whispered his lover’s name as a beginning of a praise to which the rest of the words were blown away with another sigh. A part of him hadn’t realized he’d said the word out loud.

Lucio understood his meaning, however, and smirked into the kisses he was now placing on Valerius’ chest. _“Valeriusss,”_ he murmured back against his skin, a little louder, his voice low and almost growling though still gentle.

_“I_— "

Lucio anticipated what he’d been about to say and thrusted — hard — up into him, sending him over the edge and crying out Lucio’s name, clenching around the count which in turn led him to his own climax a few seconds later.

They were both heavily panting and slick with sweat. Valerius’ hair stuck to his forehead, neck, back, torso, and anywhere else it could reach, and Lucio let go of his horn. His gauntlet slid around his lover’s waist again, but not sensuously this time; he did it to hold him closer. Valerius’ head moved up to its normal position and then tilted down to touch their foreheads together, gazing into each other’s eyes, silent except for their shaking breaths.

It took a few minutes for their breathing to return to something resembling normal, and when it did, Lucio chuckled.

“What’s so funny,” Valerius breathed, smiling softly.

“I told you I would dominate you.”

“............oh, _shut up_— ”

“Pfffffft, you’re adorable when you’re flustered.”

“I am not!”

“Are, too!” Lucio’s tone suddenly dropped from amused, playful banter to a more serious, reverent one, laced with love. “You always are, no matter what you look like, what you are. Val, you’re still beautiful, even like this.” Deciding this could be more comfortable lying down, Lucio tightened his grip on the consul’s waist again and slowly fell backwards, so Valerius was lying on top of him.

The consul was red in the face, frowning slightly. To distract himself (as well as come up with a decent reply, which was difficult while his mind was still disbelieving of the compliment), he carefully lifted himself off Lucio’s cock and settled in only partially on top of him, his chin on the count’s chest, looking up at him. He was still drawing blanks, and so he sighed. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

Valerius simply smiled, and moved his head to rest in the crook of Lucio’s neck. “I love you.”

“Love you too, cupcake.”

**Author's Note:**

> Silence.  
And then—  
“Lucio?”  
“Hmm?”  
“......were you never planning on telling me you were a monsterfucker?”  
“AHA—"


End file.
